Black widow
by Serosa
Summary: He put the knife in his pocket and looked at the sleeping form. “I don’t like you,” he whispered before unlocking the door and leaving.The black widow is, after all, known for killing the male after mating. AU, one shot, songfic, darkshipping.


**_The song is Möntly Crüe's Black Widow. The story was somehow inspired by it, so why not use it? This story didn't come out the way I wanted it though. Not nearly bloody enough..._**

**Black Widow**

The warm water washed away the blood. There had been a lot of it. Almost an entire crimson waterfall. His lower back stung slightly. This one had wanted to dominate. Not that he minded. It was nice to switch every now and then. Bakura turned his reddish brown eyes towards where his knife lay on the floor. It would have to be cleaned as well. Slowly, the white-haired teen stepped out from the shower, leaving it running. It wasn't his apartment. It wasn't his water bill. He picked up the knife from the floor and cleaned it with a wet towel.

_In her eyes  
You're the night's desire  
You're the one on her lips_

_She'll drink your love  
In the shadow of blood  
It's a deadly, deadly kiss_

Bakura made no hurry in getting dressed. The same clothes he had worn the night before. He cast one last look at the man in the bed and left the apartment. His name had been Rei. They'd met in a noisy bar. Rei had bought him a drink. They'd danced. They'd left the bar in a hurry, walking back to Rei's house. They'd stumbled up the stairs, kissing and touching. They'd fallen onto the bed. Rei had been aggressive. Rei had been gentle. Rei was dead. As Bakura walked over to a buss stop, he replayed everything that happened last night over in his head.

_You're just a man  
All in her prey  
In the web of delight _

All you can do  
Is close your eyes  
Cause you've lost  
Your life

The night club was filled with people of different age and style. Bakura leaned against the bar with a drink in his hand. He looked over the people around him. One in particular had caught his interest. The boy's tricoloured hair stood out in the crowd. He was dressed in leather and moved softly to the beat of the music. Bakura placed his drink down and moved trough the dancing bodies like a silent spirit. Someone reached out to pull him for a dance, but Bakura simply moved out of their reach. Finally he stood right next to the teen with tricoloured hair. Bakura pulled the boy close to his body and whispered:

"I'm Bakura." The teen laughed and placed an arm around Bakura's neck.

"I'm Yami."

_In this theatre of pain  
Love and hate's the same  
To the black widow  
To the black widow  
To the black widow_

They stumbled inside the sleazy hotel room. Yami pushed Bakura against the door in a heated kiss and managed to reach around the other to lock the door. Bakura opened the buckles and belts Yami seemed to have all over his outfit as Yami hurriedly opened the buttons on Bakura's blue shirt. The two fell on the bed, still undressing each other. Bakura was on top and Yami did nothing to change their positions. Instead he sat up and pulled Bakura into his lap, once again pressing their lips together.

_I need a love  
I need a love  
I need another black widow  
I need a love  
I need a love  
I need another black widow_

Bakura played with the gleaming knife as he watched his purple-eyed bed-mate sleeping. He played with the thought of slicing the slightly tanned neck, or stabbing the knife deep into the solid chest. He'd watch Yami bleed to death, just like all the other lovers. Then he'd get up and take a shower. And he'd clean the knife with a damp towel. He'd get dressed and leave. Instead, Bakura was surprised when he simply rose from the bed and got dressed. He put the knife in his pocket and looked at the sleeping form.

"I don't like you," he whispered before unlocking the door and leaving.

_Well among kings and queens  
Love and hate's the same  
In this theatre of pain  
Love and hate's the same  
To the black widow_

His name was Watsuki. Bakura had left the night club together with Watsuki. From the corner of his eye's he'd seen Yami. Those purple eyes had watched them leave. Watsuki had blue eyes. Blue eyes and red hair. Watsuki dragged Bakura to his small apartment not far from the club. Once the two reached the bed, Watsuki gave Bakura all control. Soft moans filled the small bedroom as Bakura played his part as the dominant one.

_In her eyes  
You're the night's desire  
You're the one on her lips _

She'll drink your love  
In the shadow of blood

_Oh, It's a deadly, deadly kiss_

The water washed away the blood. Bakura looked over to where the stained knife lay in the sink. As he closed his eyes, enjoying the warm spray of water, he could still hear Watsuki gurgling, choking on his own blood. And as Bakura stood with his eyes closed, he could easily imagine himself in a spray of blood. The red substance running all over his body and colouring his once white hair. As he opened his mouth he could almost taste the blood spraying down on him. Bakura leaned against the wall in the shower. The blood was caressing him. And soon he was caressing himself in response.

_You're just a man  
All in her prey  
In the web of delight _

All you can do  
Is close your eyes  
Cause you've lost  
Your life

The knife lay deep within Kazuo's chest. Kazuo had been a man several years older that Bakura. He'd been a talented lover as he took his position as the older and more experienced seme. Bakura watched in fascination as the blood left its prison of flesh and coloured the sheets a deep red, almost black. Kazuo's brown eyes stared into nothing and his mouth lay open. The hand that had grabbed Bakura's arm in desperation had gone limp. Bakura left the beautiful broken sight next to him and walked over to the bath room.

_In this theatre of pain  
Love and hate's the same_

_To the black widow  
To the black widow  
To the black widow_

She had been a beautiful girl, with black hair and almost as dark eyes. Her name was Maki. Bakura thought about how well the black hair mixed in with the blood. One dark eye was closed, and she looked like she was sleeping. But not quite, because of the knife sticking out of her other eye. Bakura pulled out the knife and eye substance and silently pushed it in again through Maki's throat. There. Now the blood had easier to escape its pretty prison. Bakura pulled the knife back and looked at the dead woman without emotion.

_I need a love  
I need a love  
I need another black widow  
I need a love  
I need a love  
I need another black widow_

Once again Bakura found himself looking into the purple eyes. Yami had pulled him away from the crowd. Away from the night club. He'd been unable to resist. They went back to the sleazy hotel and almost forcefully closed and locked the door behind them. Bakura found himself struggling with the buckles again, yet there wasn't as many as last time. He didn't know why he had allowed Yami to pull him with him like that. He didn't know why Yami wasn't dead like the other lovers. Once they reached the bed, the purple-eyed teen pulled Bakura on top. He wanted Bakura to dominate. The white-haired boy gladly took over.

_Well among kings and queens  
Love and hate's the same  
In this theatre of pain  
Love and hate's the same  
To the black widow_

Bakura looked at the sleeping form. The knife was lying in the pocket of his pants, right next to the bed. As he looked at the sleeping teen, Bakura found himself thinking back on all his countless lovers. All the men and women he'd met at some night club. All of them which he'd slept with. All of them which had died. He didn't care for any of them. It didn't matter how they'd treated him. All he wanted was one night, and then to never see the other again. Bakura rose from the bed and got dressed, once again surprising himself. He placed a hand on the knife in his pocket and looked at the sleeping teen.

"I hate you," he said and left.

_I need a love  
I need a love  
I need another black widow  
I need a love  
I need a love  
I need another black widow_

Bakura didn't know what he was doing back in that same hotel. He looked at the sleeping figure next to him and played with his knife. He had been dancing with another, and then Yami simply walked up and pulled him into a kiss. Yami was that way. When he wanted something, he simply took it. As if it was rightfully his. Once again Bakura had let Yami pull him away, to that same hotel as always before. Bakura stabbed the knife deep into his pillow and stood up. He dressed himself and then grabbed the knife, placing it back in his pocket.

_I need a love  
I need a love  
I need another black widow  
I need a love  
I need a love  
I need another black widow_

"Leaving again, Bakura?" Yami asked from the bed. He didn't even open his eyes. Bakura was already at the door as he turned around and answered:

"I hate you."

Yami cracked an eye open and smiled softly as Bakura opened the door and walked out. Just as he shut the door, Bakura heard Yami's silent replay:

"And I you."

_Well among kings and queens  
Love and hate's the same  
In this theatre of pain  
Love and hate's the same  
To the black widow_


End file.
